


Blue Christmas

by TheLadyMerlin



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-28
Updated: 2010-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyMerlin/pseuds/TheLadyMerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magicked eggnog leads to hurt, can it also lead to love</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> The talented [](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whichclothes**](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/) asked for a Spike/Angel or Spike/Wes fic with magicked eggnog, any rating. This is my response. It got a lot darker than I expected so please be sure to read the warnings.

**Author:** [](http://theladymerlin.livejournal.com/profile)[**theladymerlin**](http://theladymerlin.livejournal.com/)  
 **Title:** Blue Christmas  
 **Pairing:** Spike/Wesley  
 **Rating:** NC17 – explicit m/m sex – please read the warnings!  
 **Concrit:** In comments please  
 **Disclaimer:** Not mine, all belongs to the wonderful Joss  
 **Warnings:** Bondage, flogging, non-con  
 **Summary:** Magicked eggnog leads to hurt, can it also lead to love  
 **Chapters:** 1/1  
 **Notes:** The talented [](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whichclothes**](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/) asked for a Spike/Angel or Spike/Wes fic with magicked eggnog, any rating. This is my response. It got a lot darker than I expected so please be sure to read the warnings.  
 **Beta:** Not beta’d, all mistakes are my very own  
 **Graphic:** Banner by [](http://theladymerlin.livejournal.com/profile)[**theladymerlin**](http://theladymerlin.livejournal.com/)  
 **Thanks to:** The lovely [](http://skargasm.livejournal.com/profile)[**skargasm**](http://skargasm.livejournal.com/) who very graciously read this over for me. She patiently held my hand throughout the writing of this fic and gave her constant, unwavering support. Thank you my dear, you have no idea how much it means to me.*hugs*

 

Nominated for Best Dark at the HellMouth Awards  
[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v284/LadyMerlin/?action=view&current=HMAButton1.png)

 

Nominated for Best Angst at No Rest for the Wicked Awards [](http://wicked-awards.livejournal.com/profile)[**wicked_awards**](http://wicked-awards.livejournal.com/)  
[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v284/LadyMerlin/?action=view&current=0001fyez.gif)

  


[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v284/LadyMerlin/LJ%20Banners/?action=view&current=BlueChristmas3.png)  


The annual Christmas party at Wolfram and Hart is in full swing. Spike stands on the fringes observing the festivities while sipping from his glass of whiskey. The CEO may be a tight arse but an open bar at the Christmas party and Spike is almost ready to forgive Angel for being such a git the rest of the year. Looking over the extravagantly decorated room, he tries to decide if Lorne takes his job as entertainment coordinator very seriously or he’s just bored silly.

  
There is a large, no make that enormous Christmas tree in the centre of the lobby festooned with bright red and green decorations. An impressive amount of festively decorated presents rests beneath awaiting collection. Apparently there is one for every employee of the company and Spike wonders if that includes him, but he’s afraid to look. He’s not officially an employee anyway so it doesn’t really matter, does it. Nodding to himself, pleased with this bit of logical reasoning he turns his attention to the dance floor on the other side of the room. 

  
Spike is amused and slightly jealous when he spots Gunn and Fred dancing and smiling amongst the throng currently gyrating to Wham’s _Last Christmas_. He’s feeling a slight pang of loneliness but refusing to acknowledge it, he finishes off his drink in one long swallow. Just as he’s considering going to the bar for a refill a strong arm slides around his waist and pulls him back against a firm chest. Spike allows the hold as he realises he’s in no danger. Hot breath tickles his ear and he can smell the eggnog on the breath of his gentle captor as he speaks softly.

  
“Spike.”

  
Feeling faintly dizzy he leans back allowing the strong arms to steady him before answering, “Evening, Wes.”

  
“Are you alone?”

  
“Yeah”

  
“Good, go outside. My bike is parked near the door. Wait for me.” The order is punctuated by a firm grind of hips making Wesley’s intentions clear.

  
Spike shivers faintly as the tone sends a tingle of arousal through his body. He’d be lying if he denied an attraction to the former watcher and a little rough handling doesn’t hurt either. Feeling a confusing mix of emotions ranging from curiosity and doubt to desire and provocation, he pauses a moment to consider his answer. The watcher always seemed to have an attraction for Angel or maybe it’s just vampires in general. Deciding he’s curious, horny and lonely enough to go along for now, he nods his head slightly in agreement. A brief, barely there kiss against the skin at the nape of his neck and he’s released as Wesley slides back into the crowd. He pulls the ever present duster a bit closer around his body against the sudden coolness, already missing the warmth against his skin.

  
 Moving casually and gracefully through the party goers, he steps through the doors into the cool night air. He finds the sleek, powerful bike parked by the door as Wesley said he would. Leaning against the wall opposite, he obediently waits for Wesley to appear while listening to the strains of _Blue Christmas_ coming faintly from inside. He lets his head rest against the building and looks up at the stars twinkling in the night sky. A sense of melancholy washes over him as they remind him of his dark princess. She was his whole world for a very long time which isn’t something you can let go of easily. She loved this time of year with its decorations and carollers, presents and parties. He hates not having someone to share things with and he hates the small spark of hope in his heart that Wesley’s offer ignited even more. The offer is a surprise in itself. He didn’t realise Wes fancied a bit of dominant play, although it usually is those quiet bookish types that shock you. He’s pulled from any further musings by the increased volume of music as the door opens and Wesley steps out to join him.

  
“Glad you took me up on my offer.”

  
“Was an offer, was it. Thought it was an order.”

  
“Do you take orders Spike?” Wesley asks leaning in close.

  
 “Been known to now and again, when the mood strikes.”

  
A warm hand lightly strokes the skin of his neck just under Spike’s ear, the fingertips just ghosting over the skin and causing tingles rushing down his spine. “And now,” Wes asks, his voice quiet and husky, “will you follow my orders? Do what I tell you?”

  
“Here, aren’t I?” Spike responds looking up into eyes almost as blue as his own.

  
“That’s not exactly an answer, but it will do for now. Get on the bike. We’re going to my place.”

  
Spike settles himself on the padded leather seat behind Wesley sliding his arms around his waist and snuggling in close. The bike roars to life and with a lurch, speeds away from the metal and glass tower of Wolfram and Hart. The night air is exhilarating and Spike snuggles closer enjoying the warmth while stealthily exploring the toned abdominal muscles under his hands. Spike wonders when Wes has found the time to work out since firm, defined muscles don’t come from reading dusty old books. Seems like old Wes is full of surprises tonight. Spike unconsciously leans into the turns as the bike weaves in and out of traffic, the wind ruffling his hair and the steady heartbeat thumping against his chest. They make good time and soon Wes is parking the motorcycle and they are standing before his apartment door. 

  
“Come in Spike,” Wesley says turning to the vampire standing in his doorway.

  
Spike steps inside looking over the room briefly as Wes sheds his coat. The room is neat with simple practical furniture. There is a small kitchen off to one side and a short hallway leading off in the other direction. Wes returns to where Spike has stopped in the room and pushes the vampire up against the wall. Enjoying the feeling of being handled Spike allows himself to be held in place as the watcher leans in and takes his mouth in a soft kiss that soon turns heated. Strong sure hands slide the black leather duster off his shoulders and halfway down trapping his arms against his sides. Wes moves his attention down to the long, lean pale neck, exploring the soft skin with his lips and tongue. Spike lets out a low quiet moan of appreciation causing Wes to increase his attentions, adding little nips with his teeth. 

  
“Bedroom. Now.” 

  
Without protest, Spike precedes Wes into the bedroom and waits quietly by the bed, waiting to see what he’ll do next. He doesn’t have long to wait as Wesley enters the room and steps in close.

  
Leaning forward he whispers in Spike’s ear, “Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.”

  
Not being overly modest, Spike quickly finishes taking off the coat that was already hanging halfway down his arms and starts on his shirt buttons.

  
“No, slowly please. I would like to enjoy it.” Wes demands in a quiet no nonsense tone.

  
Spike grins and replies, “Fancy a show then pet.” With a smooth roll of his shoulders the smooth material of his shirt begins a slow slide down his arms. “Happy to oblige.”

  
He’s pleased to note the increase in heart rate and breathing as his hands pop the buttons on his jeans, one button at a time, each accompanied by a sensual roll and twist of his hips. As he allows the jeans to slide down his legs, Wes steps forward, arousal obvious and gently places his hands on Spike’s bare shoulders and slides them down over the curves and dips that outline every muscle and rib, mapping the exposed chest before him.

  
“You are a beautiful creature.” Wes observes before claiming Spike’s mouth in a rough, bruising kiss. 

  
Spike can feel strong hands holding tight to fistfuls of his hair on just the right side of pain. The demanding mouth and agile tongue send tingles of excitement coursing through his body. By the time his lips are released they are slightly swollen and his head is spinning, or perhaps it’s the room. His mind feels muddled and he’s not sure. A firm push sends him falling easily onto the bed where eyes stare long and hard at his nakedness making him feel exposed and vulnerable. He fights the urge to cover himself and is surprised by his own sudden reserve.

  
“Turn over,” Wes urges, voice husky with arousal.

  
Spike rolls over and adjusts himself so he’s lying in the middle of the bed. Regaining a bit of his usual cocky attitude, he pushes back slightly knowing the enticing picture he’s creating. He hears a gasp as Wes takes in the sight of that long lean body with the round appealing cheeks raised just enough to tempt and tease. Spike feels the bed dip and warm fingertips softly move along his shoulders and follow the line of his backbone to the small dip above the curve of his arse. The sensation is delicious, warm and tingly and he sighs as the hands continue their journey over the plump mounds and down to the muscled thighs.

  
“So beautiful,” Wes whispers softly, continuing to massage the soft skin under his hands. 

  
Spike is floating and his mind is hazy and he gives a small noise of disappointment when the hands leave his body. He can hear Wes making various noises in another part of the room but can’t be bothered to open his eyes to look. He’s content to relax and simply drift. 

  
“Slide your hands up.” Wes demands as he tugs slightly on Spike’s wrist. 

  
Opening his eyes, he sees Wes sitting on the edge of the bed with a length of soft looking rope dangling from his free hand. Trusting Wes to not actually hurt him, he complies and raises his arms up near the headboard. Leaning forward, Wes efficiently secures both his wrists to the headboard before getting up and moving to the other end of the bed. Spike feels a hand on his right thigh and cranes his head around to see what the former watcher has in mind. 

  
“Kinky,” Spike says upon seeing the spreader bar near his legs.

  
Wes gives him a sexy smirk in return while attaching the device to Spike’s thighs just above the knees, effectively keeping his legs spread just wide enough apart to give easy access to the lovely hole nestled between the pale cheeks.

  
 “I don’t need to restrain your feet do I. You will behave.” 

  
It isn’t a question and Spike responds with a small nod. He’s played these games before and can welcome the freedom of being in a submissive position. Allowing his body to relax into the restraints, he listens while Wesley again moves to another part of the room. 

  
“So pale and cool. Shall we see if we can warm you up and give you a bit of colour?”

  
The question is punctuated by the caress of leather and softer suede across his back and down across his left cheek and ending with a tickle to the back of his balls. From the feel of the many separate strands, he assumes it’s a flogger but Spike isn’t averse to a bit of pain. It can make the sex and resulting orgasm all the sweeter. He takes a deep unneeded breath and lets it out slowly, preparing himself for the painful pleasure. 

  
Even though he knows it’s coming, the first strike of the flogger on the skin of his back is a surprise. The force of the blow is harder than he expected but is not totally unwelcome as the licks of fire send tendrils of excitement coursing through his body. The strikes continue in an erratic manner. Some hard while others are soft, some sending jolts of fire across the skin of his legs and arse while others caress his back and shoulders. Wesley’s skill is impressive and Spike is moaning out his pleasure and trying to gain a bit of friction on his hard cock to ease the delicious ache. He can vaguely hear Wesley muttering under his breath but can’t quite make out the words as he allows his body and mind to drift along and flow with the sensations. Spike isn’t sure how long Wesley continued to alternately strike and caress his skin but his whole back from his neck to his knees is stinging and burning by the time he feels the flogger drop next to him on the bed. 

  
 “Much better. You should always look like this. So red and pretty, all ready for my use.” Wes observes between rubs and pinches of the reddened, bruised skin. 

  
Spike arches up into the cool soothing puffs of air as Wes leans forward and blows gently across his heated skin. Spike moans as he feels Wesley’s weight against his back causing his arms to pull taught against the ropes at his wrists. Warm breath tickles his ear and his head is again spinning as he’s urged up onto his knees. A tendril of fear trickles through the haze of confusion as he feels the blunt head of Wesley’s cock trying to force its way into his unprepared hole.

  
“Wes, no wait.”

  
“You don’t tell me what to do, not anymore. I’m not that boy. I’ll show you.” 

  
Wesley’s reply is confusing and deciding something is wrong Spike pulls back sharply on the ropes binding his wrists. He’s shocked when they remain intact and his head is roughly pushed down into the pillows. The hard cock is once again at his entrance and he pulls and bucks as much as he’s able before he feels a fist in his hair and his head is roughly pulled back.

  
“Stay still you bastard. It will only be worse if you keep struggling.” 

  
The voice is coarse and hard and so unlike Wesley’s normal tone. Obviously unable to break his way free, Spike stills and tries to remain calm and accept the inevitable. He closes his eyes and wills his body to relax as he feels the hands now grasping his hips hard enough to bruise.  He grits his teeth to muffle the scream that escapes when the hardness is forced into his channel in one violent thrust. He’s panting and struggling to get his muscles to let go but they stay stubbornly wrapped around the unwelcome intrusion like a vice. His suffering increases as Wesley begins to move, withdrawing and thrusting forward again. Spike is relieved when he feels and smells the signs of damage to his delicate tissues. The resulting blood will help to ease the passage. He hangs his head in humiliation and pain while hot, scalding tears seep from beneath his closed lids and soak into the pillow. Wesley increases the speed of his thrusts and to Spike’s immense relief there is a final, painful, deep thrust and a groan signalling Wesley’s impending orgasm. He feels the warmth as the pulsing cock spills deep within his sore hole.

  
The softening cock is removed in a rush of blood and come that starts to cool and feel sticky against the skin of his thighs and cheeks. Thankfully, Wesley simply rolls into the empty space and quickly begins to snore. The smell of sex, blood and alcohol fill the small bedroom. Spike tugs again at the ropes around his wrists but they remain stubbornly intact. His naked, vulnerable position adds to his discomfort and he wishes desperately that he could at least break free of the ropes and slip out of the fucking apartment. He stops tugging and twisting when blood from abrasions on his wrists begins trickling down his arms to land on the bed in small sticky droplets. Sniffling quietly, Spike tries to figure out exactly what happened but he’s finding it difficult to concentrate and he’s feeling ever so tired. His head reeling with hurt, anger, betrayal and confusion, he falls into an unnatural sleep of emotional and physical exhaustion. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Spike carefully stands in the cafeteria of Wolfram and Hart, sipping from a warm mug of blood. The taste is bland and unappealing but he needs the nourishment if his body is going to heal. He closes his eyes against the unwelcome memory of how he came to be injured but at least he was spared the humiliation of the morning after. Waking earlier this afternoon, he found himself free of the restraints, lying on his front with his arms still poised above his head. The first movement to lower his arms brought excruciating pain but he was determined to get up and out of the apartment as soon as possible. The warm spot on the bed indicated that Wesley hadn’t been up long. Suddenly stilling, Spike listened intently for any signs that he wasn’t alone in the apartment. He relaxed slightly when his senses confirmed he was indeed, alone. Gingerly getting up off the bed, he noticed a note on the table. Wesley had left him a note. A fucking note that spouted a brief apology and some explanation involving magic eggnog that needed Wesley’s attention at the office before generously offering the use of the shower. Thanks Wes, a shower will fix everything right up. 

  
The last thing Spike had wanted was to spend another minute in an apartment that reeked of his blood and sex but it was still afternoon. He also didn’t particularly fancy putting his jeans on over the dried blood and come on his legs and arse. So he reluctantly showered. He’d scrubbed vigorously under water as hot as he could stand it until his skin was pink and tender. He still didn’t feel clean. As soon as he was able, he left the apartment, the door making a satisfying slam when he gave it a good shove. 

  
“Spike”

  
And my life just gets better.

  
“Angel,” he responds listlessly.

  
The other vampire raises an eyebrow at the lack of snark in the response. Well he can go fuck himself. Spike just doesn’t have the energy to fight today.

  
“What no insult?” Angel puts his hands up in surrender at the look Spike gives him. 

  
“Sorry,” Angel offers, still looking puzzled and concerned. “We had some trouble last night. A Krytoptic Wizard thought it would be funny to put a magic spell on the eggnog. There were some… unexpected effects. I looked for you but you weren’t around. You didn’t get into any trouble, did you? Where were you? Were you with anyone else?”

  
“Fucksake, Angel,” Spike begins angrily. “Yes, I went home with one of your precious humans. Are you happy now and before you fuckin’ ask, no, I didn’t hurt one of your prized pets.” 

  
Spike’s anger runs out of steam and he realises he’s not really mad at Angel but it felt so good to shout at someone. He leans back against the counter but quickly flinches away at the pain in his backside. He sees Angel watching him carefully and sighs slowly while finding an interesting stain to examine on the carpet.

  
“Someone hurt you. Who was it?” Angel asks concern clear in his tone.

  
“Don’t matter. It’s done.” Spike just wishes he’d drop it. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He feels stupid enough and he’s so tired of having his feelings jerked about. Sometimes he feels like he goes around wearing a big sign that says, ‘Use me’.

  
“Spike, the magic had some nasty effects and vampires weren’t immune.”

  
“Didn’t have any, did I. So no problem,” Spike responds with a shrug.

  
“The fumes from the drink itself or even the breath of someone else who had some would have been enough to confuse you and make you vulnerable.”

  
Spike squirms, uncomfortable at the word ‘vulnerable’. He can’t help it and he hates it. He hopes Angel doesn’t notice.

  
“Spike, you don’t have to tell me what happened. I can tell it wasn’t pleasant.”

  
“Yeah, well. Could’ve been.” 

  
Angel’s eyes widen in sudden understanding. He takes a careful step closer, not wanting to cause a fight.

  
“You care about this person,” Angel states. Clearly knowing Spike does.

  
Bugger. Not knowing what to say or even feeling like denying it, he simply nods before carefully walking out. Thankfully, Angel doesn’t follow.

 

  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After wandering the quiet almost deserted corridors for several hours, Spike finds himself in front of Wesley’s office door. Again. This isn’t the first time and he wonders idly if he enjoys the hurting. He spent the last few hours considering what Angel had to say. Does he actually care for Wesley? Was he looking for more than just a satisfying night with an attractive man? Yeah, sap that he is, he was and he still is but what to do about it now. Deciding that staring at the closed door isn’t going to get him the answers he needs, he knocks quickly and enters before he has a chance to think about what he’s doing.

  
Wes is sitting at his desk with papers strewn all across the surface but he doesn’t appear to be actually reading them. He looks up, head in hands, as Spike comes into the room. Wesley stands quickly, obviously flustered by his appearance. Spike isn’t sure if that makes him happy or not.

  
“Wes,” he says in a carefully neutral tone.

  
“Uhm. Well, yes. Spike…I,” Wesley stammers to a stop clearly at a loss for words.

  
Surprised by his lack of anger and in fact feeling a bit sorry for the man, Spike steps further into the room. “It’s ok. I’m fine. Angel told me about the magic.”

  
“I truly am sorry Spike. I would never intentionally hurt someone like that. I deeply regret my actions.”

  
Unsure of Wesley’s feelings, Spike tries to draw him out. “Why did you pick me Wes? Do you, did you…” he trails off not entirely sure he wants an answer.

  
“Oh no. It could have been anyone,” Wes hurriedly answers, unaware of the flash of pain in Spike’s eyes.

  
“Right. No harm,” Spike responds unable to keep some of the hurt from creeping into his voice. “Think I’ll head off to the gym. Need a bit of exercise.” He turns his back to the room and heads for the door.

  
“Spike, wait.” Wes takes a step after the vampire before stopping and looking at the tense set of the shoulders.

  
“Later, watcher.” Spike exits the room not wanting to hear anymore and heads off in the direction of the company gym.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Wesley stands looking at the closed door of his office not entirely sure of what just happened. He feels awful. Not only did he do an unthinkably horrible thing to Spike, he just lied to him too. He’s not sure why. The lie seemed to come out of his mouth without any permission from him. He jumps in surprise when there’s a quick knock on his door before the vampire enters. Shame it isn’t the vampire he wants to see.

  
“Angel. How can I help you?” He asks trying to regain his composure.

  
“Was that Spike I saw leaving?”

  
Wesley can feel the heat of a blush and tries to think of something to say. Anything, but his mind remains a stubborn blank. He sees Angel’s face register shock, anger and sorrow all in quick succession.

  
“You? It was you.” Angel accuses.

  
“Yes,” he confesses. He sees no reason to deny it. He’s ashamed and intensely repentant of his actions. Perhaps having to confess his sins can help atone in some small way.

  
“Ah, Wes. Why Spike? Of all the people who work here, you pick him.”

  
“I didn’t intentionally choose-.” His denial is abruptly cut short as Angel steps in close.

  
“Don’t lie to me Wes.” Angel shakes his head before continuing, “You didn’t tell Spike that did you?”

  
“Well, I…yes.”

  
“You’ve hurt him more than you realise,” Angel says sadly.

  
“I know exactly what I’ve done Angel.” Wesley responds pacing about in a small pattern.  “I don’t need you to tell me. I’m deeply ashamed of my behaviour and Spike has been most forgiving.”

  
“He would be. It’s his nature, always has been. Especially with those he cares about. You claim to know what you’ve done but you have no idea. This isn’t about the physical pain. He’ll heal and Spike is nothing if not resilient.”

  
“Then I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Wes pleads, stopping his frantic pacing to look imploringly at the vampire.

  
“He cares about you Wes and you used him.”

  
“Surely with all the many partners and lovers he’s had-.”

  
“That’s just it. There hasn’t been. I think there have been a total of five and every one of them, me included, have used him. He may walk around full of cocky arrogance but it’s a shield for the soul of a poet.”

  
“But he’s only been souled for a short time,” Wesley states, the agitated pacing resuming.

  
“Maybe.” Angel nods in agreement. “But that doesn’t matter. The sensitive poet was always there, the soul just makes it easier to see.”

  
“Do you think he would…if I talked to him and told him the truth?” Wesley asks stopping in front of the vampire with his back to the door.

  
“What is the truth Wes?” Angel asks. “Do you love him?”

  
“Yes, I believe I do.” Wesley spins when he hears a gasp come from behind him. 

  
Spike is standing in the doorway, a look of shock on his face. Wesley freezes in place and closes his eyes, hope burning in his heart. He feels a feather light touch against his cheek and opens his eyes to see Spike standing before him. He regrets the slight shake he can feel in the hand caressing his face.

  
“Spike, I’m sorry. I did and do want you but I never wanted to hurt you. When I asked you to come home with me, I didn’t plan on anything like that happening. I wanted to talk to you and tell you, show you…I’m truly sorry.” By the time his speech is finished Wesley’s voice is hoarse with emotion and his eyes glisten with moisture.

  
Spike gently leans his forehead against Wesley’s before answering, “I know you are. S’okay. Let’s say we start over.”

  
Not trusting himself to speak, Wes nods and very slowly leans forward to lightly kiss Spike’s lips. He’s pleased when the blonde doesn’t pull away but he keeps things light, not wanting to push. They break apart when a loud, throat clearing noise comes from the other side of the room near the door.

  
“Get out of here, go somewhere. Talk.” Angel advises when they turn in his direction.

  
Nodding agreement they leave the room and step into the lift. As the doors close they can hear Angel calling after them, “Merry Christmas.”  
  
  
Additional notes:

Blue Christmas – written by Billy Hayes – Jay Johnson, lyrics are property and copyright of their owners.

Last Christmas – written by George Michael, lyrics are property and copyright of their owners


End file.
